You Comin' or What?
by Iffy Jr
Summary: Derek/Stiles post-canon PWP. "What about the night together?" "Only after you turn 18." That was a year ago. Stiles is 18 today. He's got the house to himself, he's showered, and he's got a box of condoms and a bottle of lube on his nightstand. Next on his list? Calling up Derek. This is going to be the best birthday ever. COMPLETE.


**Notes**: I've decided that I'm a lot better at writing Sterek that's got a build-up relationship to it instead of just a PWP, but I'm writing this anyway because I'M POSTING THIS ON MY 18th BIRTHDAY AND I'M CELEBRATING IT BY WRITING BIRTHDAY SEX. I also get to get my hair cut and dyed (that may not seem like a huge thing, but I've never dyed my hair once in all my years, so it's big for me XD). The fic is also inspired by fanart on deviantart: _only after 18_ by _darthmarvelous_. The only other thing you need to know is that Derek and Cora never left Beacon Hills. Enjoy :)

**Disclaimer**: You know the drill!

**Summary**: Derek/Stiles post-canon PWP. "What about the night together?" "Only after you turn 18." That was a year ago. Stiles is 18 today. He's got the house to himself, he's showered, and he's got a box of condoms and a bottle of lube on his nightstand. Next on his list? Calling up Derek. This is going to be the best birthday ever. COMPLETE.

**Pairing**: Derek/Stiles  
**Rating**: Mature  
**Additional tags/warnings**: post-canon; strong language; brief scenting; sexual content (no knotting); PWP; fanart inspired; Bottom!Stiles, Top!Derek

* * *

**You Comin' or What?**

Stiles takes a deep breath, staring into his bathroom mirror. He finished showering a while ago, and now he's all dry and fixed up. His hair is styled in the wave (as Scott calls it), he's in his favorite t-shirt (who doesn't love AC/DC?), and he's in the jeans that Isaac says hug his ass best. His teeth are brushed, his ears are swabbed, his nails are cut, and his socks and boxers are clean.

He wants this. He's wanted this for a long time. He remembers trying to do something about it, and he remembers Derek's answer like it was yesterday instead of eleven months ago…

_[FLASHBACK…]  
_  
Stiles grins from where he's leaning against the wall of Derek's apartment/condo/warehouse thing (_whatever_ the fuck it is), all alone with the sexiest werewolf alive. "Do you _seriously_ have to take your shirt off?" he asks.

Derek raises his eyebrow as he tosses his blood-stained t-shirt onto his bed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Dude, you have the back of a god. And the chest. _And_ the arms."

Derek rolls his eyes a little, turning away to get to the giant dresser connected to a wardrobe that he keeps beside his bed. "What, no abs?"

Stiles walks across the room, pulling his hands out of his pockets and wrapping them around Derek from behind to splay his hands out. "These are pretty damn godlike too, if I do say so myself."

Derek glances over his shoulder with another raised eyebrow. "Really?" he asks. Not about his abs being great, but just about Stiles having to touch him in the first place—or maybe just about Stiles being attracted to him at all.

Stiles grins as Derek turns his head away, taking one of Stiles' hands and lifting it away. "What about the night together?" he asks cheekily, slipping his thumb into the waistband of Derek's jeans and tugging a little.

Derek hums, stopping that hand as well. "Only after you turn eighteen."

Stiles huffs, letting his arms drop. "But that's nearly a year away!"

Derek nods, pulling out a clean shirt. "I know, but I'm not going to jail for you again."

"Oh come on, I didn't know you then! You had a _body_ buried by your _house_!"

Derek smirks, shrugging the t-shirt on and stepping away from his clothes. "Eighteen," he repeats.

_[END FLASHBACK]  
_  
And now Stiles is eighteen. Exactly one minute ago, at midnight. His dad is out working the graveyard shift and won't be home until six in the morning. So Stiles grabs up his cell phone and presses Derek's speed dial number, stepping out of the bathroom towards his bedroom.

Derek's answering voice is tired: "He-hello? Stiles?"

Stiles grins. "Did I wake you?"

"It's midnight and nothing is trying to kill us; of course you woke me."

Stiles just grins bigger. "Sorry. Do you know what day it is now?"

Derek is silent for a moment, and Stiles pictures him looking over at the calendar he has on one of the posts in his place. Cora sleeps in the loft. "It's your birthday, isn't it?"

"Spot on, Holmes. You comin' or what?"

"What if I'm not?"

"Well, in that case… If inconvenient, come anyway."

Derek is silent again, though for a shorter moment. "I'll be there in fifteen."

Stiles fists pumps. "I'll leave the window open."

"Do you have lube?"

"Condoms, too."

"You don't need those. Werewolves can't obtain or transfer diseases."

Stiles grins. "Awesome."

Stiles hears the sound of a car door slamming shut. "Do you want me to grab up anything else?" An engine revs.

"Nah, I'm good. See you soon?"

"Soon."

Stiles tosses his phone onto the floor and screams a little, quick running back to his bathroom to stare into his mirror some more. He puts on some more cologne (Danny helped him pick it out) to cover up any sweating, and when he hears Derek's Camaro outside he flits back to his bedroom.

Derek swings inside as effortlessly as he usually does, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt.

"What, no leather jacket?" Stiles asks as the wolf closes the window.

"It'd just come off anyway," Derek says, letting down the shades. He turns around, eyes their natural jade green. "Your heartbeat is—"

"_I know_," Stiles stresses. "Just ignore it."

"If it makes you feel any better," Derek says, stepping in front of him, "mine isn't any slower." He takes one of Stiles' hands and lifts it up to press against his heart.

Stiles swallows tightly, hoping his eyes aren't dilating _too_ fast. "Be gentle with me, sourwolf."

Derek smirks a little. "You wish."

The next thing Stiles knows is that he's being pushed backwards onto his bed, Derek crawling over him, one hand still around Stiles' wrist and the other gripping onto his hip bone as he uses his knees to hold himself upright. Stiles manages to pull in a single breath before Derek is kissing him, and…

God, he tastes like heaven.

Stiles reaches his free hand up to Derek's chest, moving down his t-shirt before he can slip under to splay his fingers over Derek's insanely (seriously, when _isn't_ he working out?) muscles abs and chest. Stiles has been told before that he's not _un_attractive, but he knows he is compared to Derek's chiseled look. The wolf doesn't seem to mind, though, kissing Stiles hard and gripping him tight.

Stiles pushes him away to get Derek's shirt off, and before Derek comes back down he pulls Stiles up enough to get his off as well. Derek's mouth drops down to Stiles' neck when the fabric is gone, kissing for a moment before darting his tongue out to slick and suck. Stiles lets out a little moan as Derek trails his mouth slowly downwards, stopping at a nipple as his hands pull away from parts of Stiles' body and begin to undo his jeans. Stiles expects only the denim layer to come down, but his eyes widen a little when both the jeans and his boxers are shoved onto the floor together.

Stiles suddenly feels very small underneath hungry, roaming eyes, but before it gets bad enough that he blushes, Derek speaks:

"Do you want to know something?"

Stiles swallows tightly. "Yeah."

The wolf swings off to stand beside the bed. "I wasn't actually asleep when you called me."

Stiles frowns, sitting up. "You weren't?"

Derek shakes his head, and Stiles' eyes are briefly drawn to the way that he's undoing his own jeans. "I planned on your midnight call all day," he sys, letting his jeans drop. Stiles has seen Derek change his pants before, so that's not anything new.

"Really?" he chokes out.

Derek nods, moving back onto the bed. "I knew you would invite me over." He pulls Stiles forward until he's straddling him. "I was waiting for it. I've always been waiting for it."

_Now_ Stiles blushes, ducking his head a little. "You couldn't have told me that before instead of giving me some cryptic glares?"

"I couldn't have because I would have given in."

Stiles looks back up with a grin. "Really?"

Derek gives one of his rare, dazzling smiles. "Really."

Stiles kisses him hard, wrapping his arms around his neck and knocking him backwards. Derek breathes a laugh around Stiles' mouth, but it cuts off when Stiles lets go of his neck to tug at his boxers.

"You're going to be the best birthday present _ever_," he says as Derek kicks them off the rest of the way.

"Just wait until _my_ birthday," Derek says as he rolls them over to be on top.

Stiles' breath catches in his throat as Derek is grabbing the bottle of lube off of where Stiles kept it at his headboard, watching closely as he coats three of his fingers. He expects Derek to ask him if he's ready for it or something, but instead the wolf just leans down and kisses him again before one of the fingers is pushing lightly inside.

Stiles did this to himself a couple of nights ago, just so he would have an idea of what would happen tonight. It's different when it's not his own fingers, but at least it bypasses the weird, uncomfortable feeling at such a foreign object.

Stiles decides he likes Derek's fingers much, much better compared to his won. The way he pushes and slides and scissors, and he can't help but let a little whimper escapes his throat when they're pulled away.

"Shh," Derek says softly, trailing kisses down to Stiles' neck. "You'll thank me in a minute. How do you want to be?"

Stiles breathes a laugh. "You're letting me choose something for the first time since we met?"

Derek hums. "Of course I am. It's your birthday."

"What if I don't know what I want?"

"Then you can tell me to pick one for you."

Stiles grins, pushing Derek's face away form his neck so they can see each other. "I want you to pick one for me."

Derek nods. "On your knees will hurt less."

"Then on my knees it is!"

As Stiles is twisting over, Derek is grabbing the lube again, and Stiles knows he's never been sneaky, but he tries really hard to be anyway while he watches Derek coat his own length. The wolf might notice, but if he does he doesn't say so.

Derek rubs the head of his cock against Stiles' entrance for a second, but before anything can happen he says, "We can switch around our position in the middle, if you want."

Stiles barely gives a nod before Derek is pushing in, slowly until he's all the way to the hilt. Stiles lets out a little gasp at the feeling of being so _full_, and his eyelids drift shut as both of Derek's hands go to rest on his hips.

"Are you—" he starts to ask, but Stiles cuts him off:

"I am _totally_ fine," he says, the tiniest bit breathless. "Keep going, please."

Derek pulls back out equally slow before starting to move regularly, sliding in and out in deep, slow thrusts, and for a while Stiles feels a little stupid for all of the damn moaning he's doing, but he knows better when he feels Derek's blunt fingernails dig deeper into his skin and is able to glance over his shoulder at one point to get a look at crazed, glowing red eyes.

"Derek," Stiles lets out as Derek's hip start to move faster. "I want to see you. Please, I—"

Derek doesn't hesitate, pulling out and rolling Stiles over. Stiles expects him to go right back in like he wants, but the wolf instead bends down and starts lapping at the main vein of Stiles' neck. Stiles has no idea what's going on for a second, but he realizes with a start that Derek is trying to scent him, just like the real, wild wolves do. He never once thought about instincts taking over in something like this. Is this a regular thing for Scott and Allison? She must be _long_ used to that, now.

"Hey," Stiles whispers, rubbing at the back of Derek's neck. "Derek, hey."

The wolf pulls away to look at him and sow off those deep, dark, lust-filled eyes, and Stiles can't help but feel a _little_ proud for being the one to do it.

"Think you can do something for me?" he asks, resting both hands on the sides of Derek's face.

Derek's head tilts a little bit in question.

Stiles smiles, pulling him down for a kiss before moving his lips to his ear. "I want you to take me, Derek. I want to ride you until we _howl_."

A deep noise rumbles out of Derek's chest, but it's not a growl; it's lust and want and need and satisfaction that he's allowed to take it.

He slides back in easy, watching Stiles closely as he lets out a moan at the new angle. Stiles wraps his arms around Derek's back and pulls him down for a short, sloppy kiss, and Stiles realizes that he's even _more_ turned on when his tongue feels the fangs in Derek's mouth (now he's got a _werewolf_ kink? Crazy).

Derek lets out a playful growl when Stiles scratches his own blunted nails down his back, and then one of his hands is up at his face as his pumping slows back to those deep, raking thrusts. Stiles feels the claws on them as they lightly trace across his cheek, but when they slip down his neck to grip onto his shoulders they're back to blunt so they don't hurt him.

Stiles smiles up at the way the wolf is staring almost mesmerized down at him, red eyes curious and fangs visible in wide, gasping breathes.

Stiles lifts his legs up to wrap them around Derek's waist, and Derek shifts as well, and something about it is so _perfect_ that it sends starts up behind Stiles' eyes, and he drops his head back to moan as Derek hits it again and again and _again_ and—

"Derek," Stiles gasps out, hands clawing uselessly at his back. "Oh god, Derek, I'm—"

Derek kisses him hard just as he's coming between them, swallowing his moans until he's let go of every last drop. And then Derek is letting go as well, giving a sort of growling, moaning howl into Stiles' shoulder that Stiles is _so_ going to make fun of as soon as he's not exhausted.

They stay like that for a few seconds, catching breaths and staring into each others eyes. Stiles actually gets to _watch_ the way that Derek's fangs sink away and how the red in his eyes melts away to their usual jade green. And then Derek is kissing him, soft and warm and deep.

Stiles smiles as he pulls away, pushing a hand through the wolf's hair. "I didn't even think about how you would lose yourself like that," he says. "I liked it."

He swears Derek is blushing a little but, but he covers it up by talking: "Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?"

Now _Stiles_ is blushing, averting his eyes. "You did that on purpose."

Derek breathes a laugh, pulling out of Stiles slowly before he drops down beside him, pulling the blanket up to their necks. "Maybe, but that doesn't mean I meant it any less."

Stiles grins, but then he's frowning. "Hey, Derek?" he asks, pressing up against his chest.

Derek frowns as well, though his is in concern, as he tucks his arms around Stiles' body. "What is it?"

"How far away is your birthday again?"

"About two months."

"We don't…have to wait that long, do we?"

Derek gives one of those big, gorgeous, perfect-toothed smiles. "To do this again? No, we don't have to wait at all."

And it's that smile and those words that makes all of the waiting before completely worth it.

_**-THE END-**_


End file.
